Category: Experiences

When you think of Napa Valley or when you see pictures of it, the skies are always blue and the sun is always shining.  One of the beauties of California is the great weather, but that’s not always the case.  Mornings in Napa Valley are often foggy and a bit chilly.  There are rainy days in the vineyards, too, or there wouldn’t be any grapes from which to make wine.

For sure, it’s a bit disappointing to go on a wine tasting trip when the weather is poor.  We have been in Napa Valley when the temperature was in the 20s, when there were floods and when rain came down in buckets.  It wasn’t what we were hoping for but it was what we got.  And there were some advantages.

 

The view from Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars’ windows, when the sun pierced the clouds for a few minutes.

For one thing, there is a gloomy beauty in seeing the vineyards shrouded in mist.  There is always the chance that the sun will poke through if only for a few minutes.  The vines (even without leaves and grapes) are quite dramatic against grey skies.

The great advantage, though, is that fewer people go wine tasting on cold, rainy days.  So a nasty Thursday in December, for example, has its own charms.  There are fewer people in the tasting rooms and you get more attention from the servers.  Often you get more wine as well.  After all, the servers have nothing to do except wait for visitors.  When you show up, they’re happy to see you and maybe pour a smidgen more of this and open a bottle of that.  As always, you need to be polite and inquisitive; servers have no more interest in jerks on rainy days than on sunny ones.  But when there are fewer people around, the servers may think, “Well, that bottle of the 1998 Cab is open anyway so why not give it to these nice people who braved the weather to come to our winery”.

The Robert Mondavi winery.

Perhaps even more important is that if you are served by a true wine educator, you will have so much more of an experience.  Sure, anyone can tell you the grapes and the vintages – they’re written on the bottle.  But a server who knows a thing or two will explain about the growing conditions that year, how one vintage stacks up against the others or about the different vineyards where the grapes were sourced.  If you’re not interested in those sorts of things, it’s quite probable that you won’t be make the trip to Napa Valley in the rain anyway.

Likewise, other visitors whom you do meet in a tasting room are likely to be as interested (and interesting) as you are.  Vivid conversations and shared observations tend to come to like-minded people.

In lousy weather, the roads are less crowded.  There are more tables available at the better restaurants, even without reservations.  And if you like hearty cooking, there’s a better chance you’ll find roasts and stews on the menus at these times.  Save your California cuisine fol-de-rol for sunny summer days; you’ll get real meals when the thermometer drops.

According to World Food and Wine, there are 19,000 (!) vineyards growing grapes to be used in Champagne wine.  Of these, 2,124 make and sell the wine itself.  Of course, the majority are small producers that are barely known outside their villages.  But there are 260 large producers, the top 76 of which are known as the Grandes Marques & Maisons, in other words the biggest players in the market.  These latter houses make two-thirds of the Champagne sold in the world and 90% of those exported from France.

Perrier-Jouët headquarters in Épernay

You surely know some of the Grandes Marques, such as Moët & Chandon, Perrier-Jouët or Taittinger.  But have you heard of, let alone tasted, such labels as Canard-Duchêne, Mansard Baillet or Charles Mignon?  These last three are also considered among the “big houses”.  And we at Power Tasting can assure you that there are many other smaller Champagne houses that make extremely high-quality wines.  They just don’t ship very much outside of France and even less that reaches North America.

Of course, with that many to choose from, no sane wine tasting visitor can hope to try them all.  Moreover, each house is likely to have a selection to choose among.  Almost all will have an Assemblage, made from the three Champagne grapes: Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier.  Then there will be a Blanc de Blanc made from Chardonnay only and, so we are told, most connoisseurs prize the BdB most highly.  Maybe we’re not connoisseurs, because we often favor a Blanc de Noir, made from red grapes, usually Pinot Noir.  Oh, yes, and then there’s the Champagne rosé as well.  And then each Champagne house has its top wines (known as the tête du cuvée) that you really want to try if you’ve travelled all that way to taste Champagne.  But don’t expect to taste too many houses’ Champagne in any one day.

There are local people and Champagne specialists who can differentiate wines from different sectors of the Champagne region.  It’s no different than being able to taste the differences between, say, a Stags Leap Cabernet Sauvignon and one from Calistoga.  (Quite frankly, we can’t do either one.)  But it is interesting, though not surprising, to see that the white grapes come from one part of the region and the reds from another.

The one thing that does makes true Champagne distinct from all other sparkling wines is the chalk just below the soil.  The caves where they age the Champagne are also made of chalk.  The controversy over terroir vs. winemaking skill will never end, but there is no doubt that the soil in this part of France makes Champagne different – and we would say better – than bubbly from anywhere else.

Of course there’s no shortage of winemaking skill in Champagne.  Some of the credit that goes to Dom Perignon may be apocryphal, but there is no question that a few centuries of making these marvelous wines do develop a certain proficiency.  And it is a very interesting exercise to taste a few different Champagnes, available by the glass, made by the winemakers from various houses.  This kind of tasty test raises the level of your understanding of the subtleties that go into making Champagne.

 

 

It’s unusual to have wine tasting, a natural wonder and history all in one place. But Mt. Etna, on Sicily’s east coast between Taormina and Catania, fits all three descriptions.  On any clear day – and most days in Sicily are fair – you can see steam wafting out of the top of the mountain.  Mornings are best for viewing, before the peak gets shrouded in emissions.

Mt. Etna looming in the distance, from Taormina

There are many tours available.  Unless you are an avid hiker in rather severe conditions, it’s best to take one of them.  Some tours are rather strenuous but others, such as the one we took, are for people who would rather take a brisk walk.  Much of the mountain is forested and quite pretty but the parts you’ll be most interested in seeing are those where there is hardened lava from previous eruptions.

And oh, yes, Etna does still erupt.  Leaving aside the ones documented in Roman antiquity (or even further back) there have been major blasts as recently as 2017 and 2018.  The former injured ten people.  The latter was accompanied by an earthquake that injured a few people as far away as Catania.  Your tour guide will show you lava deposits and note that this one was from 1928, that one from 1997 and that one over there was 2002.  Fair warning: The solidified lava is granular and has some sharp edges.  One of the people on our tour slipped and was pretty badly scratched.

As a tourist, you won’t be suddenly surprised by lava spewing during your visit.  The mountain gives fair warning by rumbling and burping before it blows.  The local authorities will keep you away from anywhere near Mt. Etna.  You’ll get some great photos if you’re there for an eruption (we know someone who was there in 2002) but your vacation will smell a bit of sulphur and smoke.

The remains of an inn buried in lava from the 2002 eruption

The people in the villages around Mt. Etna take the possibility of eruption with stoic acceptance.  If it happens, they take it in stride and visit their families somewhere else.  In the meantime, they’re preoccupied with making wine.  (And olive oil and sausages and pistachios, but let’s focus on the wine.)  They make whites from Carricante, Catarratto, Grecanico, Inzolia and Minnella, all of which are virtually unknown outside of Sicily.  As good as they are – and we find Sicilian whites very good indeed – they are best known for Etna Rosso, red wines made from two different clones of the same grape: Nerello Mascalese and Nerello Cappuccio.  The majority of the vineyards are on the northern and eastern slopes of Mt. Etna.

To be a DOC Etna Rosso, a wine must be at least 80% Mascalese and many are 100%.  These grapes make mellow, tannic wines.  If you like to taste the minerally characteristics of grapes grown in lava, look for the Cappuccio.  If like us you don’t care for that taste, try to avoid that blending grape.

 

 

 

Power Tasting is not in the business of reviewing restaurants and we won’t be starting to do so now.  But it is not saying much to state that The French Laundry, Thomas Keller’s flagship restaurant, with its three Michelin stars, is the best eatery in Yountville.  Maybe in all of California.  Possibly the United States.  We’ll leave it to others to say where it stands in the world’s gastronomic pantheon.  In this edition of Power Tasting, focused on Yountville, we would be remiss if we didn’t talk about our experiences there.

We’ve dined at The French Laundry a few times.  The first was just a short while after it opened in 1978, prior to Mr. Keller’s involvement. We were on a wine tasting trip with friends, passed by on a Saturday afternoon and walked in, asking if we could still get lunch.  Try doing that today!  The contents of that meal are lost in the fog of time, but not the overall experience.  We were seated upstairs by a window, looking out on the farms – not vineyards – of Yountville, including one just across the street.  The fare on the menu included chicken from this farm and lamb from that one…and the farms were in walking distance.

The French Laundry today.  Photo courtesy of thomaskeller.com

Today, The French Laundry is on a section of Washington Street that is largely residential, but shopping, hotels and tasting rooms are not far away.  The only remnant of yesteryears’ farms is the French Laundry’s private garden just opposite the restaurant.  Last year, Thomas Keller has completely renovated the restaurant, spending $10 million to make it very modern.

In 1998, we dined there after Mr. Keller had taken over.  The highlight was that we were invited into the kitchen to meet Chef Keller.  The stainless steel surfaces gleamed and a small army of cooks scurried around making last minute dishes and making sure that all was in good order.

The French Laundry’s kitchen.  Photo courtesy of thomaskeller.com

In 2014, we were riding on the New York subway when we saw Mr. Keller across the car, on his way to Per Se, his East Coast equivalent of The French Laundry.  A few weeks before, the New York Times had published an article about Mr. Keller and a favorite recipe he used to make for his father.  We tried it at home and loved it. We all got out at the same station and we took a few minutes to speak with the chef, extol his restaurants and cookbooks and say how much we enjoyed the recipe of his that had appeared in the newspaper. He was very friendly and talkative.  On the basis of that “deep, personal relationship” we wrote Mr. Keller requesting a table at French Laundry for a wine tasting trip we were planning several months hence.  It worked.

As it happened, the dinner coincided with Lucie’s birthday that year.  When we arrived, the staff wished her a happy birthday, and that wish was repeated on the custom-printed menu we were given.  Again the meal was astonishingly good, but then something totally unexpected occurred.  The power went out in Yountville and the restaurant was shrouded in darkness, but only for a few minutes.  The staff brought out stout candles and placed them all around the restaurant and along the stairs.  French Laundry is beautiful as it is; by candlelight it’s extraordinary.

Across Europe’s many wine growing regions there are regional cooperatives.  These are societies that produce wines under the name of the locality, in many cases well-known ones such as Chablis or Barbera. In other places, they’re little more than the village wine press.  The wines they produce, for the most part, are indicative of the style of that region.  And why not?  They are made from the same grapes that grow in that AOC, DOPG or whatever the local wine denomination may be.  In some instances, they make rather good wine at a very good price.  In others, the best wine available is pure plonk by any measure.

Why should a visitor to any particular corner of European Wine Country take the time to visit one of these cooperatives?  The answer depends a lot on how you approach wine tasting and how much time you have.

If you are the sort who only wants to taste the very best products of the European vines, by all means spend your time in Bordeaux, Tuscany and the Rioja.  Spend freely and drink deeply.  And to be sure, there is a time in every wine lover’s life when he or she should get to know what truly great wines taste like.

But if you also want to get to know the geography of a locale, who the people are and how they live, where they shop and what they drink, the cooperatives are a great place to start.  Very few people in Burgundy, for example, are drinking grand cru wines every night with dinner.  We doubt that even the Rothschilds are quaffing Lafitte with a plate of charcuterie.  And if you aren’t a baron, you probably don’t either.

A customer bringing his jug for a refill at the Coopérative d’Enserune in Languedoc, France.

What do the regular people in the small villages that dot the countryside do?  They bring empty bottles and jugs to the cooperative and fill them up at a spigot, much like putting gas in their cars.  The wine lists are not extensive: white, red and rosé are on offer, and often not all three if they’re not made locally.  These folks go to their homes, eat nice meals and drink nice wines and are quite happy doing so.  They’ll buy a good bottle every now and again for special occasions, but they don’t make a big deal about a pleasant beverage that accompanies their meals and their lives.  Even as a visitor, if you want a picnic or light meal on your hotel balcony, why not do like the locals do?

Another good reason to visit some – not all – cooperatives is to get an introduction into the grapes, winemaking methods and terroirs of the region.  In quite a few cases, one town may have a cooperative that’s almost a museum of their wines and the next one over is little more than an outlet store.  It’s a bit of a crap shoot and there isn’t much available even on the Internet to guide you before you get there.  Give a try, especially if you’re going to be in a town for a while.  The worst that will happen is that you’ll walk in, have a taste and leave.

La Chablisienne may be as famous for this poster as they are for their wines.

Finally, there are some cooperatives that make really good wine.  Often they make up a name for their labels so you won’t know they’re coop wines.  Rasteau makes Ortas; Chablis has La Chablisienne.  These are worth buying either while you’re there or if they show up in a local wine shop back home.

A long time ago, Steve made a trip to the Hunter Valley in Australia where he had his first experience in wine tasting in that country.  How long ago?  So long that most of the world had not yet learned that Australia was producing wines of high quality.  Penfold’s Grange and Henschke’s Hill of Grace were each US$25 at that time; today they’re around US$840 at one of the better wine stores in New York.  Even considering inflation, these wines are no longer the bargains they were then.

The Hunter Valley is a drive up the coast from Sydney to the town of Pokolbin.  As in many big cities, the stars were difficult to see at night in Sydney, but out in Wine Country, the sky was ablaze with them.  You can see the Southern Cross in the darkness of a country night.  Frankly, it’s a bit disappointing.  It’s a nice constellation, but so is the Big Dipper (which is easier for us Northern Hemispherians to find).

Blaxland Inn, Pokolbin.  Photo courtesy the restaurant.

Across from the hotel, there was a restaurant called Blaxland Barn, today known as the Blaxland Inn.  Sitting down at the table, the hostess asked if he wanted a damper.  Hmmm, what’s a damper?  It’s an iconic Australian bread, somewhat like Irish soda bread, associated with swagmen in the Outback.  And what’s a swagman?  He’s an itinerant farm worker or in some cases what we would call a hobo.  If you’ve ever heard Waltzing Matilda, you know all about swagmen.

When it came to ordering wine with dinner, everything on the list was simply an unknown name.  So the hostess was asked to help.  She hemmed and hawed a bit and then said, “Well (pronounced wail in those quarters) there is one but it’s a bit dear.  Oh, but not for you.”  She must have figured that anyone who could afford to travel to the Hunter Valley all the way from America could afford ten Aussie bucks for a bottle of wine.  That’s what prices were like in those days.  It was a Tulloch Shiraz and it was exceptional.

Tulloch winery today, not at all what it was back then.  Photo courtesy of vineyard.com.

The next day the serious wine tasting began, starting with Tulloch’s.  Other wineries visited included Tyrell’s and Lindeman’s.  It’s hard to tell after all this time whether these were top places to go or just the ones known about at the time.  But the welcome that an American wine enthusiast received was wonderful.  Servers opened all sorts of bottles, pouring out verticals and horizontals all day.

There are a few lessons to be learned, even if you never visit Australia and if you will not be as surprised to find high-quality wine there.  Just get used to the fact that you’re a babe in the woods regarding these wines unknown to you and let your hosts (and you nose and tongue) be your guides.  This bit of advice applies whenever you visit someplace you’ve never been before, trying wines you’ve never heard of.  Sure, sometimes you’ll be disappointed.  But just as often, you’ll have the chance for wonderful discoveries.

We first discovered the town of Windsor when we sought out a restaurant that used to be there, called Mirepoix.  It was quite good in its day, but as with many businesses, their dreams of expansion led to its closing.  As far as we could tell, there was no particular reason to return to this little village without that restaurant being there.

That doesn’t apply to the wineries in the geographic area designated as Windsor.  As with the rest of Sonoma County, the towns incorporate huge swaths of land surrounding a market town, such as Sebastopol, Santa Rosa or Healdsburg.  The town leaders have painted the houses in pastel colors giving the downtown area an Americana charm or a Universal Studios glitz, depending on your tastes.  As mentioned, there are no renowned restaurants, no hotels except some motels along the Route 101 highway.  Windsor seems to be a place that you pass through on your way to somewhere else.

Photo courtesy of Sonoma County Tourism

Except if you happen to be there on a Sunday morning or a Thursday evening in growing season.  Then on the Town Green in the middle of Windsor you’ll find an extensive farmers market.  We had stopped one Sunday for some breakfast before wine tasting and wound up spending several enjoyable hours there instead.  When you’re in California Wine Country, you always need to be aware that there are many farmers who grow crops other than grapes.  And the same natural forces that foster fabulous grapes do the same for melons, squash, peppers, peaches, apples, strawberries…

This is the Windsor Certified Farmers Market.  We have no idea who has certified it nor for what.  It is as close to a French marché as anything we’ve seen in the United States.  And much as at those marchés, there are numerous artisans with stands at the Windsor market.  You’ll find cheeses, home-made pickles, beeswax candles, macramé, hanging glass amulets…all the hippy-dippy stuff you’d expect at a California market.

A Summer Night on the Green in Windsor.  (Note the painted buildings in the background.) Photo courtesy of windsorfarmersmarket.com.

There’s usually a musical stage at the Sunday markets and from the end of May through Labor Day there are Summer Nights on the Green concerts during the Thursday markets.  The latter are mostly rock, country and Latin which may or may not appeal to you.

We can almost hear you thinking. “I’ve got a great farmers market at home.  I don’t need to go to Wine Country for this.”  Now, there’s something to be said for the superiority of California fruit but we’re sure that your local farmers raise delicious produce as well.  That’s not the reason to go to the Windsor Certified Farmers Market.  This is your chance to rub shoulders with the local populace, many of whom are the same people who raise and harvest the grapes and make the wine that you did come to Wine Country for.  In keeping with the same spirit that failed to support a fancy French restaurant, this market is intended to attract the neighbors, not the tourists.

An important reason to travel for wine tasting is that you learn about more than what comes in the bottle.  You learn about the whole culture that produced that wine, very much including the people and their customs.  That’s true in France, Spain, Italy and the US as well.  So take a little time when you’re in Sonoma County and come to Windsor to meet the folks.